


And the Rest, As They Say, Is History

by Raina_at



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Dogsitter!Jensen, M/M, Moviestar!Jared, RPF AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-27 00:38:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15012887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raina_at/pseuds/Raina_at
Summary: Struggling actor Jensen takes a job as big-shot movie star Jared Padalecki’s dogsitter. And the rest, as they say, is history.





	And the Rest, As They Say, Is History

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this 11 years ago, in 2007, and only just now got an AO3 account, so I' going to post the stuff here I still like, and this fic is one of them. So I hope you enjoy. Thank you Candygramme for the beta a million years ago, and my wife for the inspiration!

She's tiny, with brown hair and great tits, and Jensen's half tempted to hit on her, if it wasn't for the expression on her face, this slightly disdainful, 'why do I have to waste my time on you,' tightness around her eyes and her mouth, and there's nothing that turns off Jensen more quickly than snobbery from some film actor's PA. That's all she is, really, an assistant. But from the way she talks, Jensen's got the feeling that she actually thinks of herself as a priestess, high priestess of the cult of Jared Padalecki, and she gets to decide who's worthy to lay eyes on the divine himself.

Jensen hides his grin as she shows him in through the back entrance, directly into the huge garden. "This is where you'll work, mostly. You can use the kitchen of the main house, but the rest of the house is off limits."

"Okay," Jensen answers, more to say something than because it's actually expected of him. He has the feeling that Sandra wouldn't mind if he didn't speak to her at all.

Jensen doesn't think she wanted to hire him. His first interview with her didn't go all that well, she hadn't seemed impressed by his resume, but then the dogs had pretty much run him over, and licked his face and hands, and he'd played with them for an hour after the interview was over, and next he knew, Sandra called him up and offered him the job.

She guides him around the sizeable pool, and he glances into the living room through the big French doors. He doesn't see much but the huge plasma TV, and he rolls his eyes inwardly. Compensation issues, much?

"Here's your residence. You can change the furniture, if you like." Sandra unlocks the door and ushers Jensen in with an impatient little wave he finds half adorable and half annoying. In a way, it's amusing to watch her being all bothered, and stressed and important, especially because she's really, really tiny.

He looks around the pool house and whistles under his breath. The kitchenette pretty much consists of a small hot plate, a coffee pot and a small fridge, but there's a proper kitchen in the big house. The living room is pretty big and homey in a non-designer, still uncluttered way, and the bedroom leading off it is light and airy and has a big walk-in closet. The bathroom is small but the shower's amazing, and really, it's more space than he needs and much, much nicer than where he lives now. And best of all, it's pretty much free.

Sandra gestures at the pool. "You can use the pool if Mr. Padalecki and his family aren't home. Phone line is over there; Mr. Padalecki will pay your phone bill if it's not overly high. I'll show you the garden now."

She holds open the door, and Jensen smiles at her. "My pleasure."

For a moment she pauses, and looks at him with an edge of high-strung importance that Jensen finds equally hilarious and disturbing. "You have no idea how lucky you are, Mr. Ackles."

Jensen bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "I'm sure I am."

*-*

"Dog sitter?" Steve looks at Jensen as if he's lost his mind, which, admittedly, Jensen thinks, may not be altogether impossible.

"Yeah. Cozy job, good money, and I get to live in Jared Padalecki's pool house; ain't I the luckiest bastard ever lived?" Jensen drawls, taking the beer Steven hands him.

Steve lets himself fall down onto the couch next to Chris, who doesn't pay any attention to them, eyes fixed on the TV screen.  
"So let me get this straight," Steve says, "You walk this guy's dogs; you take care of them, feed them, play with them and the likes, and he pays you for it, plus you get to live in his pool house?"

Jensen grins. "Yeah." He sits down next to Steve and looks at the People magazine article open on the couch table. Under the headline 'Sexiest Newcomer' is a picture of his new employer, Jared Padalecki, posing half-naked for his new movie, 'The Final Scream'. "Dogsitter. Don't you love these Hollywood types? A few successful movies, and he thinks he's Prince William."

Steve points at the article. "They paid him ten million dollars for his latest movie. Compared to us, man, he IS Prince fucking William."

Looking around his shabby apartment, Jensen has to admit that Steve's got a point. Steve and Chris at least have their band, and while they don't make loads of money like they rightfully should, at least they both have a steady income, while Jensen's last acting job is so long ago that his insurance has expired, which basically is the reason for this entire exercise.

Jensen shrugs and takes another swig of his beer. "Anyway, the guy's bound to be a sucker. He's just 24 and from San Antonio, meaning he's basically a hick kid making it big in LA. There's got to be a chance to make something of this, somehow." 

"Sure, man, why not, there's bound to be some producers comin' there occasionally, maybe you can score a real job," Steve answers, putting his feet on the couch table.  
"And while you're at it," Chris drawls, snatching Steve's beer from his hand, "tell Mr. Hollywood his latest movie sucked."

"If I ever get to meet him," Jensen murmurs, which, okay, it's been bugging him somewhat. He'd expected to meet Padalecki when he went to the house today, but he'd been 'far too busy', according to Sandra, and Jensen finds himself in the odd position to work for somebody he's never even met.

Steve shrugs and grabs the TV remote from Chris, ignoring Chris' outraged snort, changing channels from whatever shit Chris was watching to the game. "Dude, if you ever do get to meet Mr. ‘I’m Too Grand To Interview My Own Staff’, you're most likely gonna want to poison him. Or worse," Steve adds, chuckling meanly, "You'll actually like him."

Jensen groans, looking at the glossy pictures of Padalecki with Angelina Jolie, with Mischa Barton, with Whatshername, the blonde chick from Battlestar Galactica, sees the smile and the dimples - which, okay, yeah, are kind of hot - the expensive watch and the well-cut suits. "Yeah, right. And then I'll join Scientology and marry Tom Cruise."

"Stranger things have happened," Steve drawls. "At least you'll be moving out of this rathole."

Jensen looks around his small living room and thinks of the pool house, the large TV and satellite dish, the working fridge and clean bathroom. "I guess it could be worse," he says with a grin and lets himself sink back into the well-worn sofa to watch the Cowboys kick ass.

*-*

It's week two of his new job, and he's already losing count of the days, because they're pretty much all the same. He gets up every morning at eight sharp to walk the dogs, then takes them to Agility, or plays with them in the garden, and then at 2 pm exactly, he takes Mr. Padalecki's brand new SUV and drives them to the lot where they're shooting the new Padalecki movie, drops the dogs off with the porter, and then, as instructed by Sandra, he waits in the car. At 4.30 pm he takes the dogs home and gives them their food, relaxes a bit in front of the TV, mostly with one or both dogs snoring at his feet, and then he walks the dogs again, grooms them if necessary, and pretty much drops them off at the back door of the main house around 7.30 pm.

Two weeks. Regular as clockwork. And he hasn't seen Jared Padalecki once. He's been over to the main house a few times, using the kitchen to cook for Steve and Chris when they’re over or just himself when they’re not. He jumps into the pool every evening and lounges in the garden to watch the stars. But he never sees Jared Padalecki, not in the kitchen, or the garden, or the pool nor on set, as a matter of fact, because Sandra's forbidden him to go anywhere near Padalecki's trailer, because 'Mr. Padalecki needs his privacy'. Like he's some raging fangirl, and not the guy who walks his goddamned dogs.

Thing is, though, Jensen kind of enjoys the job. He's made friends with Rosa the cook-slash-maid, an elderly, matronly woman, who started mothering him the second they met. He's genuinely fond of the dogs, they're cute, and lively and they don't chew on Jensen's shoes too much. But then he's always liked dogs, always got along with them, always had the hang of dealing with them. He usually gets along far better with dogs than people. Also, the pool house is luxury, he gets about a million channels over the satellite system he's hooked into, and Rosa makes a cheese omelet to die for.

The only drawbacks really are feeling a bit like a Soccer mom, and the increasingly annoying red sticky notes Sandra leaves him in his mailbox. 'Only use the pool between 4 pm and 8 pm,' or, 'Take Harley to the hairdresser,' and, 'Hairdresser cut Harley's hair too short, Mr. Padalecki wanted it longer,' and, 'Mr. Padalecki this,' and, 'Mr. Padalecki that,' and every time Jensen reads one of the sticky notes he gets the urge to lay his hands around Sandra's tiny little throat and strangle her, followed by Mr. Padalecki himself. He's beginning to wonder whether it isn't a good thing that he hasn't met Padalecki yet; if his assistant’s ego is that enormous, he can't even imagine what Padalecki himself must be like.

*-*

It's 6 am on the Wednesday of Jensen's fourth week of working for Mr. Mysterious Padalecki, and Jensen's had way too much to drink last night. He went over to Steve's for his friend's birthday party and valiantly resisted getting sucked off by this really adorable twink called Sven or maybe Evan. He was just about the opposite of Jensen's type of guy, small, and blond and androgynous - if he wants a girl, he fucks a girl, thanks very much - but a mouth is a mouth, and Jensen's been having a bit of a dry spell lately, but he still said no, because once you drop your standards you might as well fuck anybody, and Jensen's never been that guy, rumors to the contrary notwithstanding.

He steps into the shower and washes away the sweat on his skin, then puts on some sweats and a ratty old t-shirt. From his window he can see that the lights are on in the kitchen of the main house, and this must mean Rosa's up making breakfast. Maybe he can score some cereal, or maybe even some waffles or eggs. He's pretty sure if he pouts enough, Rosa will make him anything he wants.

The fresh morning air does a lot to wake him up when he crosses the back yard, but the smell of coffee drifting out of the kitchen window is still a siren song pulling Jensen in.

He opens the back door quietly and steps into the big eat-in kitchen. The door of the huge fridge is open, and he can hear Rosa rummage around in it.

"Morning, Rosa," he says, more cheerfully than he feels and pulls up a chair.

The figure leaning into the refrigerator starts violently, and a tousled head appears that definitely doesn't belong to Rosa.

"Dude," Jared Padalecki says, closing the refrigerator door with an audible breath, "Announce yourself next time or something, you startled the crap out of me."

Jensen can't say anything, he's pretty much frozen in place, because this? So not what he was expecting. For one thing, Jared Padalecki. And yeah, it's his kitchen, but the guy has been so elusive that Jensen's begun to doubt that he actually lives here. And pictures are one thing, but the guy is... well, huge. And really, really well built. And also wearing nothing but loose pajama bottoms, and dear God, you could bounce a quarter off those abs. But he's frowning at Jensen, and Jensen remembers that he actually isn't supposed to be 'disturbing' Mr. Padalecki at all, according to Sandra.

"I'm sorry?" he says, not at all sure how to react, because he is allowed to use the kitchen, and it's six in the morning, and he hasn't slept much.

Padalecki waves the apology away with a distracted hand gesture. "It's all right. I'm just not used to anybody bein' up at this hour." Then he looks up, and the frown clears and he smiles at Jensen, sheepish, and there's something in Jensen's guts that reacts to that smile and the unmistakable Texas twang with an instinctive pleasant twist.

Jared takes a step towards him and holds out his hand. "I'm sorry, man, I forgot we haven't actually met yet. I'm Jared, and thanks for taking such good care of my dogs."

Jensen takes the offered hand, totally confused because of the smile, and the dimples and the warm handshake. "I'm Jensen. Ackles. And, well, pleasure’s all mine," Jensen answers, and finds himself smiling back, shaking Jared's hand like they're just two good ole' boys from Texas, which, well, they kind of are.

Jared gestures at the table. "Sit down, Jensen. You want some coffee or something?"

"Um, yeah?" Jensen kind of ask-answers. "Coffee would be great."

Jared takes out two cups and pours coffee for himself and for Jensen, then hands Jensen the cup. "Milk, sugar?"

Shaking his head, Jensen accepts the coffee. "Black's good."

"Okay," Jared says, then pours an indecent amount of sugar into his coffee, pulls up a chair and sits down at the table. "I'm sorry I haven't had time to come and talk to you, man, but this shoot's been killin' me," he adds. "16 hours a day, nights, weekends, but thank God, only about a week more of this, and then the wrap party, and then I can sleep for about a month."

Jensen doesn't say anything, because he can see the dark circles under Jared's eyes, but on the other hand Jensen's done 16-hour shifts for weeks as a bartender and didn't get paid ten million dollars for it, so his sympathy is strongly limited.

"On the other hand," Jared adds with a grin, "I get to wreck, like, three Porsches in that movie, so it's all worth it. Plus they stuff ridiculous amounts of money down my throat, so really, rough deal, right?"

Jensen's startled enough to laugh with Jared, and even more startled when Jared claps him on the shoulder, no machismo, all friendly contact, like he's any other Texas boys.

"Yeah, you really got it tough," Jensen says, and there's real amusement in his tone, to his complete surprise. He looks at Jared, who's lounging in his kitchen chair and looking for all the world like a goofy college kid with his tousled hair and worn pajama bottoms, and Jensen's brain immediately goes, _Oh nonononononono! I don't like you. I don't like you. You're an arrogant prick; I don't like you._

Jared smiles, and, for a moment, silence falls, but it's not uncomfortable, and Jensen takes a sip of his coffee, immediately regretting it. "Man, that's disgusting!"

He has exactly a split second to worry that saying that will get him fired on the spot, but then Jared bursts out laughing, and Jensen can't help his smile.

"I'm sorry, man, I should've warned you, my coffee's generally considered undrinkable, but tell you what, my pancakes are awesome, so how about I make us some, before I get picked up by my 'chauffeur'," Jared says, indicating the air quotes with his fingers.

Jensen feels a bit like he's fallen down the rabbit hole, and black is white, and up is down, but what the hell. "Chocolate chip?"

Jared grins. "Sure, what else?"

Jensen gets up. "I'll help."

*-*

Jared's right, the pancakes are awesome, and so is the coffee Rosa makes after Jared wakes her by dropping a pan in the kitchen. Jensen discovers that Rosa treats Jared exactly like she treats Jensen, irreverent motherly affection, and to all their amusement, Jared calls her 'Ma'am' about three times in two minutes.

Jared disappears after his second helping of pancakes and comes back fully dressed, Jeans and flip-flops, not entirely Vanity Fair material, but Jensen's beginning to suspect that his idea of Jared just might be a tiny bit off. _Still not liking him, though_ he thinks, and he'll damned well stick to that.

"Come by the set when you drop off the dogs this afternoon, and I'll show you the Porsche I'm gonna wreck tomorrow," Jared says on his way out, waving at Jensen and pecking Rosa on the cheek.

Rosa smiles, all motherly affection. "It's so nice to cook for a boy who can eat, you know?"

Jensen digs his fingers into his palms and resists the urge to bang his head against the table. _Not liking him. Not liking him. Not liking him._

*-*

Jensen has to admit it. "Okay, that's awesome."

The Porsche gleams red in the afternoon sun, all sleek curves and smooth power.

Jared grins like a manic five-year old at Christmas. "Totally. And they're actually letting me do some of the driving myself," he says, absently petting Harley, who's almost humping Jared's leg.

They walk back towards Jared's trailer, and the small area where Jared can play with the dogs during breaks between takes. He's in costume now, torn Jeans, button-down shirt with fake red bloodstains, and if possible he looks even more of a dork than this morning, but somehow also more like a movie star, even though everybody greets him with a wave and a friendly, casual, "Hey, Jared."

Jared's bouncing a ball for Sadie and has one hand on Harley's head, between his ears. "It's good that I get to spend some time with the dogs during the day now, before, when my mom took them, she always had them for the entire shoot, and I didn't see them at all. We’ll have more time when this movie finally wraps, then I'll show you their favorite beach and all that stuff."

Jensen just nods. He knows better than to comment on promises like that, he knows people, and he knows that if it isn't the movie, it'll be something else, and Jared will just let the dogs be dogs and go off with some blonde starlet, or so Jensen hopes, because he's still not liking the guy, and he would like to keep it that way.

They arrive back at the trailer, where a nervous looking PA is already waiting for them. "Jared, we need you on set, now."

Jared nods, relaxed, easy. "Sure, be right there. Jensen, can you take the dogs home?"

"Sure." He whistles to the dogs, and they detach themselves from Jared to come to him. He leashes both of them and starts to lead them off towards the parking lot. Tomorrow it's back to the car for him. Good. He's got a novel to finish.

"Jensen?"

Jensen turns at the sound of Jared's voice. "Yeah?"

"Why're you always waitin' in the car when you bring the dogs? I don't bite." He's shielding his eyes against the sun, so Jensen can't really see the expression on his face.

"No, but Sandra does," Jensen replies, deciding to keep this light, he doesn't want to sound like he's complaining after all.

Jared snorts. "Yeah, she's... a bit intense, I know. She leave you little sticky notes everywhere too? I always find about a million of them on the fridge or on my mirror."  
   
Jensen makes a noncomittal sound and shrugs. "She's been... communicative with me, yeah."  
   
"Just ignore her, all right? Just come to the set with the dogs, okay?" Jared asks, sounding earnest and very young.  
Jensen nods, short, acknowledgement.

"And Jensen?"

"Yeah?"

Jared grins. "When she was at the house yesterday, I kinda stole her sticky notes."

Okay, maybe Jensen's liking him a tiny, tiny little bit.

*-*

Next day on set Jared feeds the dogs his ham and cheese sandwich and orders them a Pizza, mushrooms and pepperoni and extra garlic, and they eat sitting in the sun on the steps of Jared's trailer. Harley falls asleep lying over Jared's feet and Sadie wrestles with Jared for his script. Jensen lays his head back and lets the sun shine on his face, the taste of garlic and pepperoni lingering in his mouth. They talk about the dogs, and where, and how and why Jared got them, their personalities, their habits, and it's pleasant even if it's totally inane, more noise than actual content. Jensen leaves with the dogs when Jared's called back to do some actual work, and he can smell pizza on his clothes for the rest of the day, but he doesn't change his shirt.

The day after that, the pizza's already waiting when he arrives with the dogs, along with a generous helping of the dogs' favorite cookies, and they throw a ball back and forth, until the dogs are exhausted and drop in the shade of Jared's trailer.

They sit down next to the dogs on a couple of deck chairs. Jared wipes the pizza-grease on his jeans and talks about San Antonio and high school sports, and Jensen finds himself telling Jared about his knee injury and his baseball scholarship going bye-bye.

"I'm sorry, man. That sucks,“ Jared says, quietly, and doesn't say anything for a long time after that, so long that Jensen's beginning to think that he won't say anything at all any more this afternoon, and he looks over to find Jared watching him with a strange expression.

Jensen raises his eyebrows. "I got somethin' on my face or what?"

Jared snorts, smirks in a self-depreciating way Jensen doesn't find sexy at all, no sir. "You maybe wanna come over tonight and have some beers, watch the Cowboys game on my huge-ass TV?"

And there's something in the tone of Jared's voice, something low and genuine, that tells Jensen he should say no, shouldn't go there, nobody's this... friendly for no reason, but he's a guy, and football, beer and a plasma TV make for an irresistible combination. "I'll bring the dogs."

Jared laughs, and Jensen curses him inside his head. _I don't like you. Stop making me like you._

*-*

When Jensen enters the living room - which is sizeable and modestly decorated enough to put the flat screen plasma TV somewhat in perspective - ten minutes before the game, Jared's already there. He’s got popcorn, nachos, a six-pack, and a blond guy who seems vaguely familiar to Jensen.

Jared waves him over. "Hey, man. This is Chad. Chad, this is my dog sitter and fellow Texan, Jensen, so be careful who you're rooting for tonight."

Chad, the blond guy, holds out a hand. "Hey, good to meet you," he says, shaking Jensen's hand with the patented 'I've got bigger stones but fewer muscles' handshake, then turns back to Jared. "Dude, dog sitters should be hot blondes you want to screw, that's the whole point of having a dog sitter."

Jared snorts around his beer and shrugs at Jensen. "And there I thought it had something to do with actually, you know, somebody taking care of my dogs."

"Also," Jensen drawls, sitting down when Jared gestures for him to, and taking the beer Jared hands him, "I'm kinda blond. You sayin' I'm not hot enough for Jared or somethin'?"

He raises his eyebrows at Jared, fully expecting one or the other of them to freak, but Jared only laughs and gives Chad this _look_ , this, 'See?' glare, and Chad just shrugs and sits down in one of the enormous leather armchairs. "I'm not gonna debate a dude's hotness with you girls, if you don't mind. We're here to watch football, right?"

Jared's still snickering quietly, and when Chad turns to the TV he gives Jensen the thumbs up and mouths, "Awesome."

Jensen grins and gestures at the bowl besides Jared. "You gonna hog that popcorn all night?"

*-*

Chad gets a call about a third into the game and leaves pretty abruptly with a murmured comment about some chick, and his chances of 'getting some,' and would the girls excuse him. Jared flips him off absently, and Chad half cuffs Jared over the head, half ruffles his hair, and Jared tucks his head in and smiles in a way that Jensen doesn't find adorable at all. Not at all. Really.  
Chad waves politely but dismissively at Jensen and leaves just as Dallas scores and Jared high-fives Jensen with this gleeful grin that makes Jensen kind of go, 'Chad who?'  
During half time they go into the kitchen and Rosa makes them sit down and eat way too much of her homemade chili.  
Over the second bowl Jensen asks, "Where do I know Chad from?" because that's been kind of bugging him for as long as the guy was there.  
   
Jared grins. "Oh, he's on one of those WB teenager shows, and he was with me on Gilmore Girls. I left, but he stayed and he's kind of the new WB sunny boy."  
   
Jensen bites his lips to hide his smile. If there's anything more emasculating than being the WB sunny boy, Jensen can't quite think of it, and it'd go a long way to explain Chad's 'my dick is bigger than yours' attitude, not that it bothers Jensen much. "So you two go way back."  
   
"Yep." Jared smiles sheepishly. "I know he's a jackass, but he's a good friend, and he doesn't actually want anything from me. In this business that's hard to find."  
   
"Jared, I'm the hired help, you don't exactly have to justify your friends to me," Jensen says, raising his hand in a disclaiming gesture.   
   
 "Oh." Jared's smile fades and Jensen feels a bit like he kicked a puppy. "I thought..." Jared ducks his head and scratches the back of his head, obviously embarrassed. "I thought we were kinda... becoming friends?" He looks up, all wounded puppy dog eyes and tousled hair, and Jensen's mind goes all, _Oh, god, stop looking at me like that._  
   
"Yeah, sure. I mean, we are," he hears himself say, and kicks himself for it a second later.  
   
The thing is, though, Jared's face kind of breaks out into this relieved, happy smile, showcasing both his dimples, and Jensen just... melts, feels this warmth settle in his belly and smiles back, even while a small, rational voice in his mind whispers, _I'm screwed._  
   
*-*  
   
Days pass, and Jensen settles into a routine. He gets up early, checks his mail and throws the not sticky but still annoying messages Sandra leaves him into the trash without reading them. Then he goes over to the main house and sits with Jared while he munches on his cereal or eats his bacon and eggs after his morning run with the dogs. Jensen's enjoying the fact that he finally found something he can resent Jared for: he's a morning person. Contrary to Jensen, who just feels like lying down and never getting up again every morning before coffee, Jared gets up an hour early to go running, and when he comes back, he's sweaty, and chatty, and generally really annoyingly perky and cute, sweat-soaked clothes clinging to him in ways Jensen doesn't notice at all.  
   
He then takes the dogs from Jared when Jared goes to work, and spends the morning with them, then drives them to the lot around 2 pm.  
   
He spends lunch break with Jared and the dogs, playing, eating, talking, lying in the sun doing nothing much at all. It's more comfortable than it has any right to be, but Jensen blames that entirely on the sun and the quiet atmosphere of the backlot when everybody's at lunch.    
   
When Jared goes back to work, he takes the dogs home, or sometimes he hangs around with them, waiting for Jared to have another break, and once Jared leaves Sadie and Harley in his trailer and shows Jensen around the set, pointing out all the stuff he already got to wreck during the shoot.  
   
Most evenings Jensen sees little of Jared, which kind of figures, Jensen thinks, because even Jared Padalecki must sleep at some point.  
   
Jensen mostly goes to bed early himself, not thinking at all of Jared, and the way his t-shirt sometimes rides up to expose ripped stomach muscles, not thinking of how sometimes, in the mornings after his run, Jared strips off his shirt and sits there half-naked, glistening with sweat while he shovels down insane amounts of Rosa’s grease-soaked breakfast specials.  
   
And every night, Jensen resolves that next morning he'll sleep an hour longer, drink coffee in his own kitchenette, and not get up at six only to see Jared like this, sweat-tousled and flushed from exercise and smiling. And every morning, he opens his eyes at 5.45 and doesn't roll over to get more sleep, but gets up and goes over to the main house where coffee's already brewing and Rosa hands him his usual black, two sweet-and-low and cream cheese bagel and Jensen sits down and stares at the back door, until Jared comes in and starts the whole damned cycle again.  
   
 *-*  
   
It's Saturday, and yesterday Jared finished shooting the movie. Jensen has the day off and doesn't see Jared until four in the afternoon when he comes outside to jump into the pool.  
   
He's drifting comfortably on his back when Jensen comes out and sits down at the edge of the pool, casually dangling his feet into the water.  
   
Jared blinks up at him, squinting against the sun. "Hey, Jensen."  
   
And Jensen's not shivering pleasantly at all at the way Jared says his name in that twangy accent he doesn't even try to hide. "Hey, man. You look awful pleased with yourself," he answers and hears his own accent strongly in his voice, something he hasn't heard in years. He really is spending way, way too much time with Jared.  
   
Jared grins. "14 hours of sleep, cast party tonight, and nothin' to do and nowhere to be tomorrow, meanin' me and my couch can spend some quality time."  
   
"Ah, the glamorous life of the Hollywood A-lister," Jensen drawls sarcastically, and Jared chuckles.  
   
"Glamour tonight, slothing tomorrow. Hey." He looks up at Jensen as if seeing him for the first time there. "You wanna come to the cast party? Lots of babes and big shots there."  
   
Jensen stills. Something's a bit off in Jared's voice, something almost... fake. Which is weird, for an actor, but Jared’s never seemed fake to Jensen before. Maybe that's why he shakes his head with a dismissive, "Nah, I've kinda got a date tonight."  
Total lie, of course, he's got a date with his DVD player, or Steve, on the outside chance he'll actually leave the house, but somehow even a room full of producers - the main reason he took this job, damn it - sounds less than appealing, when his mind automatically pairs it with being Jared's tag-along charity outreach project and having to watch while Jared dallies with Paris Hilton, or Lindsay Lohan or any other blond-ish skeleton of a starlet.  
   
Jared smiles, and again, there's something a bit off about it. "Well, have fun."  
   
Jensen smiles back, resolutely ignoring the twinge in his stomach. "Yeah, man. You too." Just not too much, he adds silently. And then, even more silently, _I am so, so screwed._  
   
*-* 

It's three in the morning when Jensen's woken up by a loud splashing noise from outside followed by a loud-ish giggle.  
He pads to his bedroom window and looks out. The pool area is dimly lit by the motion sensor activated lights in the pool, and Jensen deduces that the splash he heard was Jared jumping in.  
   
And true enough, a tousled dark head surfaces from the water, smiling broadly with a wicked gleam in his eyes. Jensen follows Jared's gaze to the second figure in the pool with him, and he swallows when he realizes that the hot number in Jared's pool is a guy. A pretty hot guy, blond and muscular and slim, wet through like Jared and grinning like he just won the jackpot, and Jensen wants to strangle him for no apparent reason.  
   
Jared and the guy circle each other in the pool, splashing and laughing, and Jensen's beginning to wonder whether he got the wrong impression, but then Jared backs the blond hottie against the wall of the pool and kisses him, messy, sloppy, hands a blur under the water, and Jensen closes his eyes against the double fist of desire and rage that hit him square in the gut. _Oh, fuck. Oh, no, no, no. Turn away, go back to bed._  
   
But he opens his eyes again, and watches Jared kiss the guy, pressing him into the wall, full body-contact, and Jensen can't look away, can almost imagine what Jared must feel like, wet and hot and heavy and... no. Jensen doesn't think about things like that, doesn't think things like that about Jared, who, yeah, is hot, and nice and funny  in all the ways Jensen finds completely irresistible, but is Jensen's boss, and a fucking Hollywood A-lister with millions of people hotter, and more famous and more glamorous than Jensen waiting to fulfill his every wish, so no way is Jensen allowing himself to feel this gut-wrenching lurch of desire that makes him want to go out there and fish that blond nobody out of the pool and get in there himself and touch...  
   
Enough. Fucking enough. And obviously, Jared agrees, because he's breaking off, moving away, darting an unreadable glance at Jensen's pool house, and Jensen ducks behind the curtains so Jared won't see him standing there watching.  
   
Jared says something to the blond guy that Jensen can't understand and heaves himself out of the pool, dripping wet in his smart black suit. And up until this moment Jensen would've said he preferred Jared in casual wear, jeans and t-shirt, because the overly polished look of tailor-made suits doesn't do much for Jared, but that changes radically when Jared's wet all over, and the shirt is clinging, and his hair is messy, his lips bruised from kissing, and Jensen can feel the growl rise at the thought. He bites down on his lips to keep it in, because what the fuck, really.  
   
Jared, meanwhile, is watching the blond guy climb out of the pool, and then just turns to go into the house through the back door. Blond guy hesitates for a moment, then follows Jared inside, and Jensen goes back to bed and doesn't think of Jared's wet skin or smashing the blond guy's teeth, and he definitely doesn't think about Jared at all when he closes his eyes, and his hand finds his erection under his crisp, white bed sheets.  
   
*-*

Jensen sleeps until 11.30 next morning and wakes up to Sadie scratching at his door. He stumbles up and lets her in, and she promptly goes into the bedroom and rolls on his bed with a happy growl that forces a smile out of Jensen. Harley's there about two seconds later, slobbering all over Jensen's feet, and Jensen gives him the good scratch he so clearly wants.

Sadie joins him and Harley in the kitchen while Jensen makes coffee and eats stale-tasting wheaties. They look at him with great big puppy eyes and even though he's got the day off, even though he could just drop them off over at the main house and just do whatever he wants, if he's entirely honest with himself, he needs the distraction and the company, and also, he kind of loves these dogs. They're happy and friendly and fun and they don't bring home blond hotties to ravish them right in front of Jensen's nose. Not that he's still thinking about that.  
He takes the squeaky duck Harley loves and the red ball Sadie's crazy about and takes them out to the garden to play, still not thinking about last night and sure as hell not darting glances at Jared's bedroom window. Much.

*-*

The dogs have tackled him to the ground for the seventh time now, his clothes are dirty and he's sweaty and laughing. Harley's on top of him, Sadie's running circles around him, barking, when he notices Jared. Just standing there, watching him with the dogs, an unreadable expression on his face.

Harley all but jumps off Jensen towards Jared, hitting him in the gut with both hind legs, and the air goes out of Jensen with a painful woof.

Jared's there ten seconds later, helping him up, and up close he looks like shit, pale with dark circles under his eyes and rumpled. He takes Jared's offered hand and bites back about a million nasty things he could say, all along the lines of 'Hey, apparently your blondie boytoy wasn't as good a lay as you thought', because he's got absolutely zero right to make any comment at all, and Jared's palm is warm against his, and Jared's hands are strong as they help Jensen stand.

Jared smiles, apologetically. "You all right?"

Jensen nods, still wheezing a bit, because getting kicked in the gut by a dog Harley's size fucking hurts. "Yeah, I'm fine." And then, before he can even think about it, he adds, "You look like shit."

Jared's smile takes a self-depreciating edge Jensen doesn't like to see. "Gee, thanks, that's always nice to hear."

And something in Jared's voice makes Jensen backpedal, makes him glad for Harley's head against his thigh, rubbing against him in apology. He scratches Harley's head, soothing. "It's okay, boy, it's okay."

He looks up again at Jared. "Sorry. Just... you look like you haven't slept much."

Jared shrugs. "Yeah, I know." His smile is back, and this time it's genuine. "Y'all wanna come in for some snacks?" he asks, addressing the dogs and Jensen, and Jensen really wants to say no.

"There's ice cream?" Jared says, smiling like a five-year-old trying to coax his friends to come to his slumber party, and Jensen knows right then and there that where Jared is concerned, the word ‘no’ might as well not exist in Jensen’s vocabulary.

*-*

They take their bowls of chocolate chip ice cream and move from the kitchen to the living room. Jared puts in the first Matrix and falls asleep during the first ten minutes with Harley lying over his feet, and Jensen would really like to believe that the reason he's staying exactly where he is and not turning off the DVD to let Jared sleep is that Sadie's got her head in his lap, and he hasn't seen the movie in ages anyway. But at some point he just stops watching the movie and watches Jared instead, fast asleep and looking so young, so vulnerable, so open. Jensen wants to throw a blanket over him, or do something else to protect him from the mean, bad world, although even as he thinks it he realizes how ridiculous and stupid he is.

Jared wakes up, predictably, when the closing credits roll and dusk is already settling, and he stretches lazily, rubbing at his eyes like a young dog.

Jensen looks away, out of the window. "Feel better?"

"Yeah." Jared's voice is sleep-rough and quiet.

He looks over at Jared in the fading light of dusk, and somehow he feels safe, because of the falling dark that’s half obscuring his face, and by the quiet of the afternoon and the intimacy of this moment. "You had fun last night?"

Jared shrugs, holding Jensen's gaze. "At first, yeah. But... I don't know, it's always the same crowd, and the same lame music, and the same posh caterer, and the same people, who you just gotta be nice to, because they're 'important'" - Jared indicates the air quotes with an ironic gesture. "I don't know; it's shallow and superficial, and so damned… fake, and most of the time that's fine, but at other times it makes me want to puke."  He bites his lips, and then smiles at Jensen, sheepish. "I know, poor celebrity, cry, cry, cry. And most of the time I don't care, hell, this job makes me enough money to serve me and mine for the next three lifetimes. But sometimes it gets to me, you know?" He shrugs, a small, what-you-gonna-do gesture, and looks at Jensen as if what Jensen thinks actually matters even one tiny bit.

And suddenly Jensen's uncomfortable, like there's something here he didn't ask but got to know anyway, a small sordid look into the downside of Jared's life, and he thinks he kind of - sort of - gets that Jared didn't take whatever the blond hottie offered last night, and Jensen hates himself for being glad. "Yeah, well, man, that's what you get for not learnin' a real profession," he says with an exaggerated drawl, and Jared laughs, and Jensen needs to get out of here right the hell now.

He gets up from the couch. "Hey, gotta run, I'm having a pal over for some beers."

"Have fun," Jared says, yawning.  
   
When Jensen turns at the kitchen door, Jared's nearly asleep again, and Jensen goes over and tucks a blanket over him. Jared stirs and kind of rolls into his touch, into the blanket and murmurs, “Thank you."  
   
Jensen tries his best to ignore the way Jared's all warm and sleepy, and just pulls his hands away, and leaves without looking back, already pulling out his cell to call Steve for an emergency drink.

*-*

Steve arrives with a six-pack and a bottle of Tequila, and Jensen's not sure he's ever been gladder to see him.

"So what's up?" Steve asks after admiring Jensen's cushy new digs again. "You go to any glamorous Hollywood parties yet?"

Jensen shakes his head and reaches for his second beer in ten minutes. "Nah. Not really."

"Why not? Padalecki not the type to socialize with the staff?" Steve asks and takes the shot glasses from Jensen to position them on the coffee table.

"No," Jensen says too quickly, hating that he sounds defensive. "Jared... he's not like that, dude. He invited me to the cast party, but... I don't know, I didn't want to go."

Steve's looking at him, Jensen knows, even though Jensen's studying the surface of the coffee table with unwarranted fascination.

"What's up with you, man?" Steve asks, and Jensen still doesn't look at him. "The only reason you took this gig is the connections, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," Jensen murmurs and wishes he didn't. "It... I don't know, I don't wanna... use Jared, I guess."

Steve slides down from the couch until he's at eye level with Jensen, who's sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table. "Jensen, look at me."

Slowly, deliberately, Jensen looks up, all, 'What?'.

And Steve, the fucking bastard, grins. "You like him, don't you?"

"Don't be ridiculous." There's just the right amount of amused huff in Jensen's voice, but it still lacks any conviction.

"Of course," Steve continues as if Jensen hadn't spoken, "I should’ve known. He's exactly your type. You always fall for the tall, dark, good-looking, unavailable dicks, and Padalecki, oh, sorry, 'Jared', is just the kind of hot asshole -"

"Shut the hell up," Jensen snaps, harsher than he meant to, because he invited Steve to be supportive and not drag all the ugly things Jensen keeps under the carpet out into the light. And Jensen will be fucked if he lets Steve talk about Jared like that.

"Ooookay, I see I'm totally on the wrong track here, forget I said anything." Steve's voice is dripping with sarcasm, but he hands Jensen a shot with a grin and an apologetic shrug. "So, we gonna watch some football or should I braid your hair and talk about your feelings all night while we roast marshmallows over the fire?"

Jensen takes the shot and slams it down, enjoying the burn of the alcohol down his throat. "Shut up, turn on the fucking TV, and leave the fucking bottle open."

*-*

By the time Steve leaves at midnight, Jensen's too shitfaced to even stand to see him out. So he just stays on his living room floor, hoping that it'll stop spinning at some point.

And so maybe, Steve's got a point. Jensen's a bit of a crusher. Always has been. He's a victim of the 'shiny' disease, as Steve calls it, because he sometimes looks at gorgeous people and just falls for them hook, line and sinker. Like Joanna, blonde, and gorgeous, and so very sexy, and as empty as one can possibly be, and she didn't even spare Jensen a second glance after they'd fucked twice in the toilet of some club or another. Or Tommy Fucking Welling, who screwed up Jensen's audition for Smallville by blowing Jensen in the toilet directly before, and never spoke to him again afterwards.  
So Jensen's got poor judgment and very little self-control, and this is why it's so important that he stays focused here. Because Jared's not any of these people. Jared's his boss, and his friend, and a fucking Hollywood A-lister, and he could crush Jensen without even trying, only he wouldn't because he's nice and funny and good. And Jensen really, really doesn't want to keep making the same mistake over and over again by losing sight of anything and everything important just because he wants to fuck somebody.

And okay, yes, he's drunk enough to admit that he wants to fuck Jared. Badly.

But it ain't gonna happen. The nice guys never fall for Jensen. So he'll take what he's got now, which is a cushy job he likes, working for a guy he likes who's turning into a good friend. And it's good enough.

Jensen lifts the bottle of Tequila towards the ceiling, saluting. "And fuck you too, Steve."

*-*

Time off for Jared means he doesn't actually need a dog sitter, so Jensen's a bit at a loss for the first couple of days, because most of the time Jared's right there with the dogs, and Jensen just kind of tags along and helps out when Jared takes the dogs to Agility or to the beach.  
   
They love the beach, Jensen discovers. They run into the water and splash around, and Jared knows this perfect near-deserted patch of sandy beach where the dogs can do whatever they want, including spraying Jensen wet every time the sun's just dried him off.

By the third time Sadie splashes him, Jensen's had it, and strips off his shirt to chase her into the water, laughing his ass off.  
   
When he comes out he can feel Jared's eyes on him, and he turns around just in time to see Jared blush.

"What?" Jensen asks, frowning at Jared. “Somethin’ on your mind you wanna share?”

Jared's gaze drops from his like a stone, and his tiny smile hits Jensen down to his toes. _I hate you,_ Jensen thinks. _I really, really hate you._

Then Jared looks up and throws him a bottle. Jensen catches it and looks at it. Suntan lotion. He rolls his eyes and opens it. "Thanks, Mom."

Sitting down next to Jared on the towel, he starts applying the suntan lotion, still aware that Jared's looking at him. He turns to glare at Jared. "What?"

Jared's still smiling at him, softly, and there's something about his gaze, steady on Jensen's skin, that makes Jensen's heart beat faster. "You've got a lot of freckles," Jared answers, quietly.

"So?" Jensen asks, makes his voice sound challenging to hide the roughness he feels all over. "Somethin' wrong with that?"

Jared shakes his head, slowly, lips still curved in this small private smile. "No. Nothin' at all wrong with that."

Jensen looks away to keep from blushing. He hates Jared. Hates him, hates him, _hates him._

*-*

It's Sunday and Jensen's day off, and he's been reading the new Hannibal novel all afternoon, lying on his back by the pool.

It's been a weird week, way too much time with Jared, running with the dogs, playing with the dogs, and video games and movies that had nothing to do with the dogs at all. He’s learned that Jared drops his shoes and socks everywhere, that he loves Corona and hates Guinness, and that he listens to REO Speedwagon, and Bonnie Tyler and Zeppelin on his car radio, and that he’s cute even when he sings along, horribly off-key, to any number of 80’s power rock ballads.  
And maybe he didn't notice before, or maybe Jared's just this way when people get closer, or maybe something’s changed between them, but Jared's been touching him all the time. Pats on the back or the knee, shoulders brushing Jensen's while they’re playing videogames, shoving him into wrestling matches with the dogs, hand brushing over the nape of his neck. And the thing is, Jensen likes it, and Jensen resents it, and after a week of it, he feels frustrated, confused and uncertain in his own skin.  
   
So he went out yesterday to this club with Steve and Chris, and he tried to find anyone who tickled his fancy enough to get laid, because hell, he needs to get some, and fast, because he's going fucking batshit insane here. Steve and Chris pushed one hottie after another on him, and they all fell over themselves to get into Jensen's pants, but he couldn't get his dick interested in any of them. By the end of the night he was ready to kill somebody with frustration. Preferably either Chris or Steve. Or somebody who Jensen hasn't been thinking about, but whose name rhymes with Smared.

Anyway. He hasn't seen Mr. Confusing Padalecki all day, and he jerked off twice before breakfast, ate a late lunch with Rosa and he's about to fall asleep on the pages of his book. A good day.

"Dude, you're gonna get a sunburn."

Jensen sighs. "Fuck off, Jared."

"What crawled up your ass and died?" Jared asks, sounding more amused than annoyed, fuck him.

Jensen turns around and glares at him through his glasses. He's wearing loose jeans and a worn t-shirt and no shoes or socks, and he looks sexy as hell and tired. "I'm trying to read here."

Jared waves the script he's holding in front of Jensen's nose. "Relax. Me too. I've got this audition tomorrow."

"Audition? You?" Jensen props himself up on one elbow and watches Jared fiddle with the script. "I always thought the Spielbergs of this world just called you guys and begged you to take parts in their new blockbusters."

"Yeah, well, but this is a part I really want, not just one that'll get me tons of cash for flashing my abs. Soderbergh. I'd give my right arm to work with him, and..." Jared trails off and drops the script down to the floor tiles. "I just can't nail this."

And there's really only one thing to do here. Jensen picks up the script and gets off his ass. "You want some help?"

*-*

Three hours later, he's lounging on the bed in Jared's bedroom and watches Jared botch the scene for the seventeenth time. He rubs at his nose under his glasses, headache settling in slowly but surely. "Dude. You need to try a different approach. This so isn't working."

Jared sits down next to him on the bed, and the mattress dips under his weight. "I know." He runs his fingers through his hair in a frustrated gesture Jensen can empathize with. He's been there, he's done that, he's got about a million of the t-shirts.

Jensen takes off his glasses and throws them on the bed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Okay. Okay. So, your delivery is flat, because you're trying too hard to be Tom Hanks or something. And you're not gonna get it like that, because if Soderbergh wants Hanks, he'll hire Hanks, not your skinny ass."

And he's getting what he's been trying for when Jared's grin flashes short and challenged.

"Gee, thanks, man, you're simply oozing charm today."

Jensen grins. "You're not payin' me for bein' charming."

Jared leans back on his elbows and watches Jensen with that knowing smirk Jensen hates so much. "I kinda do, though."

"You're payin' me to be charming to your dogs, not to you, man," Jensen says and throws the script back at Jared. "So come on, get your ass off that bed, and try again."

"Bossy," Jared murmurs, but he gets off the bed.

Jensen claps his hands together. "Scene 1, Take one thousand and sixteen."

Jared flips him off and takes a deep breath. "I can't do this."

Jensen rolls his eyes. "It's not rocket science. Just do the fucking scene."

Jared flings the script at Jensen. "You think you're so good? Then show me how it's done, Yoda."

And Jensen's never been one to refuse a challenge.

*-*

So yeah, Jensen missed this. Slipping into somebody else's skin, inhabiting a character, free from personal inhibitions and things he'd never say or do himself. And doing it with Jared, acting with Jared... well, something happens. The moment Jensen steps into the scene instead of just reading the part, Jared's focused, determined, and maybe it's the competition, and maybe it's just because Jensen's giving it his goddamned A-game, or maybe it's because Jensen can _feel_ the sizzle now, can feel Jared's heart beat when he pushes him against the wall mid-scene, hands on Jensen hot and insistent. Whatever it is, the scene works. Jared's part works. It feels charged, deep in ways it just didn't before, and Jensen's smiling when they reach the end of the scene, and Jared is too.

They do it again, three times in a row, and Jensen feels the rush of letting himself fall into a scene. They do several variations, and they always end up grinning at each other like maniacs at the end of it.

"Man, you're good!" Jared says, genuine and smiling, and Jensen knows he shouldn't feel good about the praise, but he does.

"Thanks." He smiles and wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. "That was fun."

Jared drops down to the bed and Jensen looks away when his tank top rides up to reveal his stomach muscles. 

"I'm starving," Jared says to the ceiling. "You wanna go grab some dinner somewhere?"

Jensen leans against the window and nods. "Okay, sure."

Jared grins. "Come on. My treat." 

 

*-*

Jensen's view of the lifestyle of the rich and the famous isn't very glamorous, admittedly, but still he expected something other than this. "Taco Bell? You're all class, aren't you?"

Jared flips him off. "When you're the Hollywood A-lister, and you're taking me out to dinner, we can go toMadre’s and shake it with JLo, but for my money," he points at the menu, "Tacos."

"Okay, big shot. Tacos it is." Jensen bitches, but he's smiling, because he's honestly relieved. There's just no way he'd go to Madre’s with Jared and have Jared pay 100 bucks for entrees alone and not feel like a skank with his sugar daddy, and the fact that he and Jared aren't anything like that wouldn't make any difference to the people watching and speculating how often Jensen drops to his knees to be taken out to Chez Fleur by Jared Padalecki. But tacos wrapped in grease-stained paper and cold coke from plastic cups, Jensen can deal with that just fine. Just two Texas boys sharing a bit of Texmex this way, and that's exactly how Jensen wants it.  
   
Jared gets them about seventeen tacos and nachos with cheese and dips and cold, sticky-sweet coke and starts munching down food as if he's getting paid for it.  
   
Jensen picks up a taco and gestures at Jared. "It's a miracle you look like you do with the kind of stuff you eat, seriously."  
   
Jared grins around a taco. "I'm between shoots, meanin' I can eat what I want right now, gotta enjoy it while it lasts."  
   
"Dude, didn't your mama teach you not to talk with your mouth full?" Jensen asks, and curses himself for finding the way Jared ducks his head and grins cute.  
   
"Sorry," Jared murmurs around another mouthful of taco.  
   
Jensen bites into his own taco to keep from reaching over the table and ruffling Jared's hair.  
   
"By the way," Jared says, and there's a wicked tone in his voice that makes Jensen look up.  
   
Jared's grinning at him, flashing the full force of his dimples at Jensen. "Those glasses are way sexy, man."  
   
And Jensen wishes the earth would swallow him whole, because he's actually blushing, but he can't help the way his lips tug up in a smile as he tucks his head in, embarrassed. "Thanks."  
   
Jensen can feel his stomach flutter in a way that has nothing to do with the tacos, and all with the way Jared looks at him, soft and smiling. Jensen can feel it again, this current between them, this spark he felt when they were doing the scene together. And for a moment Jensen considers reaching out to brush Jared's fingers over the fries basket, just to see what Jared will do. 

But then everything goes to hell when, suddenly, there's flashlights, and, suddenly, there's a video camera, and there's a microphone stuck into Jared's face and the paparazzi go, "Jared, smile. Jared, turn this way. Jared, who's the guy? Jared, look here. Jared, tell us about the guy."

And Jensen watches as Jared's face just...morphs, into this smiling, friendly, neutral mask, and he smiles and poses for pictures with his Taco, and before Jensen can say anything to the question of who he is and what he's doing here with Jared, Jared's dragged him to his feet and flung an arm around his shoulder.

"This, my friends, is my pal Jensen Ackles, fellow Texan and fellow actor. Remember his name, guys, he's gonna be big someday. That's Ackles, A-C-K-L-E-S, and Jensen with an E, not Jason or any of that crap, so get it right." Jared's smiling all through that, and the arm around Jensen's shoulder is holding Jensen firmly in place, and Jensen can't do anything but smile and hide the violent urge to bury his fist in Jared's face for being this nonchalantly unruffled and condescendingly famous. 

And then it's over, and the flashlights are gone, but their moment is broken, and Jensen feels dirty and gritty and exposed. He shakes off Jared's arm and stalks outside to breathe.

Fuck it to hell and back.

"Jensen?" Jared's standing in the door to Taco Bell, holding up Jensen's half-eaten Taco. "You wanna go home?"

Wordlessly, Jensen nods. Anything to get out of here, anything to get away from people looking at them, and wondering.

*-*

The drive home is silent and short. Jensen gnaws at his lips the entire time and ignores Jared's attempts at small talk.   
Goddamnit. He took this job with exactly this in mind. Jared Padalecki parading him around as the new golden boy of showbiz, as his protégé, throwing his weight around to get Jensen noticed.  
But now that he's got that, now that Jared's done exactly that, he realizes that it's about as far from what he wants from Jared as he can get.  
Earlier tonight, they were colleagues, friends. Equals. Now he feels like a lapdog. 

The car stops, and before Jared can open his mouth, Jensen is out of the car and walking towards his pool house. He needs to get away from Jared now, before he says something he'll regret. Or does something, like catch the spark he felt earlier against Jared's lips, or tell Jared exactly where he can shove his A-lister crap. 

He's not done ten steps when Jared catches up with him, a hand on his arm, and Jensen comes around growling. "I don't need you to do my fucking PR. Don't ever fucking do that again."

Jared stops as if he hit a wall, freezes with his mouth hanging open. "What?" He sounds genuinely confused and he's looking at Jensen like he lost his mind. "Dude, I was just..."

"You were just what?" Jensen asks, trying and failing to sound calm. "Trying to get them to notice me, to write about me, because obviously, if I'm with Jared Padalecki, I'm news, even though they wouldn't give a shit about me if they saw me alone. I don't need that kind of attention, Jared. I don't need that kind of publicity, where people look at pictures of us and think, 'Hey, if Padalecki bothers with him, he must be worth it, right?'" Jensen sighs and feels his anger drain away when he sees the stricken look on Jared's face. He knows Jared didn't mean to be condescending or patronizing, but he made Jensen feel like an outreach project, like he's one of the ass-kissing cronies who wants or needs anything from Jared other than Jared himself. Sighing with frustration, he runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. "Never mind."

He turns away, but warm, gentle fingers wrap around his wrist and stop him, and Jared turns him around to face him. 

Jensen turns, and blinks, because Jared is close, too close, right in Jensen's space, and he's warm and smells amazing. He reaches out at the same time that Jensen steps back, and Jared's hands drop to his side again.

"I'm sorry," Jared says, half sigh, half whisper, and Jensen wants to take everything back, wants that moment back with Jared close enough to smell, Jared's fingers warm on the skin of his wrist, holding him, but Jared's already turning into the house, depositing Jensen's taco on the table next to the lawn chairs. And Jensen's left in the warm LA night thinking, _Real smooth, Jensen. Real fucking smooth._

*-*

Next day is a Monday, and Jensen's got his hands full with two hyperactive dogs who were fed treats all weekend and now need to work off some energy, and Jensen goes to the park with them and wrestles and throws balls and plays, until he's too exhausted to think about what happened last night, if indeed anything happened at all.

He goes by a newspaper stand but there's nothing in the tabloids yet about Jared and him, and he hopes that the photos of two Texan boys at Taco Bell is just way too boring to print.  
 In the light of day, he feels a bit stupid for his freak-out. Last night wasn't a big deal at all. Except it clearly showed Jensen that he's in way over his head. Paparazzi and media frenzy are parts of Jared's life. Admittedly parts he hasn't seen yet, but still, Jared's a star, even though it's so easy to forget that when he's playing with his dogs, or when Jensen's kicking his ass on his Playstation. Jared is Somebody, and Jensen's spent most of his life being absolutely nobody, so it should be easy to resent Jared, whose celebrity flows off him like water, who makes a fortune doing what Jensen loves, who's living the life everybody dreams about. It should be easy to resent him, but it isn't. Because Jared sheds his stardom like an unwanted coat, and underneath he's just this damned, likeable dork Jensen's gotten way, way too fond of, and who Jensen has spent so much time with during the last few weeks that he almost feels like a Jared-sitter rather than a dog sitter. He feels just as protective of Jared as the dogs he's paid to look after.  
Not that Jared needs protecting. Not that he isn't by far the richer and more influential one, not that he needs anything of Jensen that a million other people couldn't give just as easily. And that, Jensen finds very easy to resent.  
Maybe he should just quit, before he loses all his sense of perspective and involves himself even more inextricably in Jared's life than he already has. But then he'd have to give up Sadie and Harley, and he'd have to give up on seeing Jared every day, on talking to him, laughing with him and touching him, and Jensen knows he's not strong enough to walk away, even if he knows he's just setting himself up to get crushed. 

 

When he gets home with the dogs, he takes out his cell phone for about the tenth time today, hovering over the call button, because he forgot to wish Jared good luck for the audition, and just at that moment, his phone rings. He picks up, and immediately regrets it, because it's this guy he met on Saturday called Dave or something like that, and before Jensen can say anything, the dude asks him out, like on a real date.

Jensen hesitates. He hasn't been out on a date in too long. Ever since he lost his last acting gig, actually, because just about then it went downhill, along with his bank balance and his self-esteem. But. But when he opens his mouth, the yes gets stuck in his throat by the memory of warm fingers on his wrist and that look in Jared's eyes.

But what the fuck is that all about, really? Jared's his friend, and his boss, and yes, maybe Jensen is crushing on him like crazy, but Jared's not actually a real option, he's an unobtainable fantasy, one of Jensen's shiny crushes that always end up exactly nowhere, and this is a real guy, who's nice and kind of good-looking, who's asking Jensen out on a real date, with a chance of real sex and maybe even something a bit more permanent than that. "Okay. Tonight is good. I'll meet you there."

Harley and Sadie are watching him when he closes the phone, and he stares back at them, murmuring, "What're you lookin' at?" as he brings them inside.

*-*

The knock on his door comes at 7.30 and Jensen opens the door to find Jared leaning there with a bottle of champagne, two glasses and a killer grin. "I got it."

"You...you..." Jensen's speechless, because he's happy for Jared and all, but he has to go, he'll be late, he's all dressed, and he doesn't want to keep Whatshisnameagain waiting.

But Jared smiles and moves out of the way, and the patio table is all laid out for two, there's homemade fajitas, and ground beef chili, and barbecued ribs, and it smells heavenly, and Jared's holding up the champagne. "Wanna celebrate?"

The no is on the tip of Jensen's tongue, but it's just too big of a lie to tell, because honestly, Jensen doesn't want to be anywhere else, with anyone else, and he's had it with denial. He wants this. He wants Jared. He wants.  
So Jensen nods, accepts the invitation, and follows Jared out to the patio and the waiting table, accepting the glass of champagne Jared hands him.

He clinks his glass with Jared and says, "Congratulations," and means it, and, "You deserve it," and means it, and he doesn't say, I love you, but he'll be goddamned if he doesn't mean that, too.  
  

*-*

They've moved on to the lawn chairs next to the pool and their second bottle of expensive champagne, and the buzz Jensen feels isn't only coming from his vibrating cell phone, which is probably Whatshisname asking where Jensen is. Jensen can't even quite remember why that's important at all.

"You know what I hate about LA?" Jensen asks, looking up to the sky.

"What?" Jared sounds about as drunk as Jensen feels.

"You can't see the stars, not really. Not like in Texas."

Jared snorts. "Dude, you're from Dallas. You tellin' me you can see the sky better in Dallas than here?"

Good point. "Nah," Jensen admits. "Can't see shit in Dallas. But it's kinda easier to get out of the city in Dallas, get away from the glow. Maybe it's all a conspiracy by the entertainment industry, so the stars up above won't distract us from admirin' the stars down below," Jensen says with a vague gesture at Jared.

"You're so full of shit, Jensen," Jared says, chuckling. "Never would've pegged you for a rambling drunk."

Jensen flips Jared off and reaches for the champagne bottle, but Jared holds it out of his reach easily, fucking giant. He scrambles to reach it and ends up slipping out of his lawn chair onto the floor tiles next to the pool.

"Dude, I'm so cutting you off," Jared says in between laughing his ass off, and Jensen kicks at the feet of Jared's lawn chair, hard, grinning like a maniac when Jared lands on the floor right next to Jensen, champagne bottle now in reach.

Jensen grabs the bottle and takes a drag of it, giggling when the carbonation tickles his nose. "I hate champagne," he says between hiccupping giggles, and Jared collapses into helpless laughter right next to him, both his dimples in full view. Jensen wants to lick them.

Ooooh, dangerous thought, don't go there, he thinks, tries to move away from Jared, who's sitting so close their legs rub together with every movement.

Jared shakes his head like a puppy trying to shake off water and lies down on his back. He holds out his hand. "Then give it here."

Jensen hands Jared the bottle back and lets himself drop to the ground next to Jared, looking up at the sky and trying not to notice how close Jared is, and how good he smells through the light haze of the alcohol. Champagne buzz is less sharp than, say, Tequila drunkenness, but it's more dangerous in a way, more insidious, because it's bubbly, and happy and the stars are really nice tonight. The breeze is pleasant, the food was good, and Jared's so warm at his side.

Jared nudges Jensen with his elbow. "Did I say thank you for helpin' me with the audition?"

Jensen smiles. "Yeah, you did. Twice."

"Well, three time's the charm. Thank you." Jared salutes Jensen with the bottle, sloshing a bit of champagne over them both.

"You're welcome," Jensen murmurs, hating his voice for being all low and intimate.

"I don't get why you're not on TV or on every movie billboard in this city," Jared says, and it sounds like he's talking more to himself than to Jensen. "I mean, you're talented enough, and you're gorgeous..." he stops, falters, and Jensen turns just in time to see Jared blush. "I mean, you're handsome and all," he continues, coughing like he's swallowed a bug.

Jensen grins and turns to his side so he can see Jared's face, propping his head up on his elbow. "I'm gorgeous?" His stomach is fluttering now, and there's a pleasant heat coursing through his body.

"Well..." Jared's still blushing bright red, looking up at the sky, then at Jensen, smiling sheepishly. "Yeah, kinda."

Jensen's heart stutters when he meets Jared's eyes, and his lungs skip a breath, and God that's really not a good idea, but he leans down and his fingers brush the bangs out of Jared's eyes. "You know why you're famous and I'm not?" he asks, close enough he can hear Jared swallow.

"Why?" Jared asks, voice all husky, and eyes staring at Jensen unblinking.

”Smile.” Jensen waits until hesitantly, Jared stops frowning and smiles, confused, and Jensen pokes a finger at Jared's dimples. "That's why," he says, then leans down and kisses Jared.

For an instant, time just stops. Jared's lips are soft beneath his own, and Jared makes the tiniest sound, a gasping, surprised kind of quiet 'oh', and then he moves, opens, kisses Jensen back, and Jensen falls.

Sensation comes rushing back, and Jensen feels it from his head, to his heart, to his toes when his tongue slips inside Jared's mouth, warm, wet and slow, and Jared's hands come to rest on his shoulders, holding him still, and Jensen's hand's on Jared's torso to brace himself. He can feel the heat of Jared's body, taste the champagne they had on Jared's tongue, feels the softness of Jared's lips, and the hardness of his chest and the erratic thump-thump of Jared’s heart under his palm. The world goes fuzzy and heat surges through Jensen from the way Jared licks over his lips, Jared's tongue slides against his, flicks against the corner of his mouth, teasing, and then his hand is in Jared's hair, and he's holding Jared down and licking, and biting and sucking at his lips, his mouth, his tongue, like he’s wanted from day fucking one.

Jared makes a sound in his throat, trapped between a moan and Jensen's name, and Jensen draws back, needs to breathe, needs to see Jared's eyes, needs to know it's okay, he's not making more of something that isn't there.

And Jared looks at him and licks his lips, slowly, deliberately, and whispers, "What took you so fucking long?" and Jensen can taste the end of that last word from Jared's lips.

They fall into the kiss head-first, and Jensen forgets everything that's not Jared's warm, spit-slicked lips against his own, that's not Jared's taste, and the skin of Jared's face under his fingertips, the feel of Jared's tongue running over his lips, sliding against his own. They kiss until Jensen is stupid, until he can feel the heat rush through his body, slow and slick like Jared's tongue in his mouth.

Panting, Jensen moves back, moves away from Jared's lips only to straddle his hips, grabs hold of Jared's hands when they reach for him and holds them down, and Jared bucks up just as Jensen grinds down, and Jensen goes from aroused to blinding hard in about .2 seconds when he feels Jared's erection grind against his.  
"Jesus," he breathes.

"It's Jared." Jared's just as breathless as Jensen feels, grinning wickedly as he rolls up his hips, and Jensen gasps, heat coursing through his entire body.

"Fuck," he whispers and bears down again on Jared's mouth, kissing Jared slowly, deliberately, eyes open, kissing like he means it, kissing like it means more than just heat and getting off.

And Jared moves his hips and his torso and rolls them, traps Jensen underneath his weight, and Jensen can't resist bucking up into Jared's lean, heavy body on top of him, holding him down, and God if that isn't the hottest thing ever, although not half as hot as the expression in Jared's eyes. They’re heat-saturated, and wanting, and black with lust, but still familiar, and Jared runs gentle fingers down Jensen's face and over his lips, breathing hard and looking somewhat awed. "Jesus, Jensen."

Jensen swallows, suddenly feeling as if the air has gone out of his lungs and he can't quite catch enough air under the weight of Jared's eyes on his. They seem to be _seeing_ him like Jensen's not sure he's been _seen_ in years, and yeah, all right, this is real. This is no fantasy crush, this is a man who knows him and wants him, and Jensen can't breathe. But then Jared's lips are on his, gentle, and Jared's tongue strokes into his mouth, slowly and carefully, and something inside Jensen just gives, and he falls in love headfirst with no ground in sight.

There's dizziness, and there's a smile, and he doesn't know if it's his or Jared's, and there are hands on his body, and he's pretty sure they're Jared's, shoving aside his t-shirt, running along his skin, touching him soft, and hard and feeling just fucking fantastic.

And then Jared pulls back and Jensen grins, feeling light, feeling like laughing, and flying and fucking, all at once preferably. He pushes at Jared until they're rolling, rolling, and then there’s a splash, and water closes in around them.

Jared pulls him up to the surface, laughing. "Way to go, Jensen," he says, but he's smiling, and he's already backing Jensen up against the edge of the pool and pressing him against the wall and kissing the laugh right off Jensen's lips.

Warm, wet heat everywhere, Jared's hands grabbing his ass and pulling him towards Jared, hard, hot when Jensen wraps his legs around Jared's hips and grinds their erections together. Jared growls into his mouth and bites at his lips, at his throat, at his ears, and it drives Jensen crazy with want, this friction, dulled by the water, and the heavy heat of Jared's body against his. It's exactly like Jensen imagined it would be, only it's so, so much better it almost blows Jensen's brains out. And the fact that this time it's _them_ in the pool and not some meaningless boytoy, it's like taking back a piece of Jared that Jensen didn't know he wanted, didn't know was missing, until he reclaimed it and kissed it back into Jared's mouth.

And then Jared moves back, running hands through Jensen's hair, down his face, looking at him, suddenly self-conscious. "Look at me, I'm seducing an employee. Is that illegal?" he whispers, and Jensen laughs, can't help it, until Jared smiles again.

Then he fists a hand in Jared's shirt and pulls himself close so he can wrap his arms around Jared and twine his legs more securely around Jared's waist. "Jared."

"Yeah?" It's more air against his lips than actual sound.

"I quit," Jensen says, then dives into Jared's open mouth, kissing him until he's got no more breath for laughter.

"Let's get out of here," Jensen whispers, because as hot as this is, he doesn't want to fuck in the pool, and if fucking doesn't happen very soon, Jensen's got the feeling that he might spontaneously combust, water or no water.  
   
"Your place or mine?" Jared asks, grinning, moving towards the pool ladder.  
   
Jensen darts a look at his pool house. His bedroom is closer, but Jared's bed is this King-sized huge playground, plus Jensen's not exactly stocked, and there's a few things he'll need for what he's got in mind. "Yours."  
   
They climb out of the pool, and as soon as they're both out, Jared takes Jensen's hand and drags him towards the house.  They go in the back door, and Jared backs him against the wall next to the stairs, mouthing at Jensen's neck, grazing the wet skin behind Jensen's ear with his teeth, and Jensen bites down on a helpless whimper. "Jared. Bedroom, now."  
   
Jared huffs a laugh against Jensen's throat, which quickly turns to a moan when Jensen grabs his hips and grinds their jeans-clad erections together. "I get your point," Jared all but growls and lets go of Jensen, drags him upstairs and into his huge bedroom.  
   
Once they're inside, it's Jensen's turn to attack. He closes the door behind them and pushes Jared up against him, mouths at his collarbone while his hands push up Jared's t-shirt to get to warm, wet skin. Together they get Jared's shirt off, then Jensen's, and then Jared pulls Jensen in and Jared's naked skin against Jensen's is just about the best thing ever.  
   
Jensen fists one hand in Jared's hair and the other messes with the buttons of his jeans, but then Jared just pushes Jensen back, and Jensen lands on the bed. Jared's over him about.2 seconds later, kissing his way down Jensen's body, along his belly, and Jensen shivers when Jared's fingers start fumbling with his fly.  
   
He lifts his hips and Jared pulls and then Jensen's naked, and Jared just looks at him with that expression in his eyes that Jensen now recognizes as desire. "Wow," Jared breathes over Jensen's stomach muscles, then proceeds to lick his way over Jensen's lucky trail, over his hipbones, over the tip of Jensen's cock, and something inside Jensen goes 'Glory Hallelujah' as Jared's lips wrap around his cock.  
   
"Jesus Christ, Jared," he gasps, because, God, Jared's got one hell of a talented mouth, and he's currently using it to suck out every ounce of thought and willpower out of Jensen's body through his dick, replacing it with lust and omygodyes and waves of wet, heavenly heat.  
   
And then Jensen's tugging at Jared's hair, because good as this is, it's not what he wants right now, he wants to see Jared, feel him.  
Jared goes with Jensen's pull until they're face to face, and he's licking his lips in a way that Jensen feels down to his balls. "I was enjoyin' that," he says, and his voice is about two octaves lower than normal, all husky, sexy growl that Jensen can feel vibrate through his body.  
   
"Me too," he says and kisses Jared's slick lips, tasting himself there, and that's just way, way hotter than anything in the history of ever. Except maybe the way Jared's moving against him, hot-hard erection rubbing against Jensen's belly.  
   
He pushes Jared over, onto his back and straddles him, grinding his ass against Jared's erection. And Jared kind of gets the message, because he flushes and shudders. "Hell, yes," he whispers.  
   
"Where's the..." Jensen asks, and Jared points at the bedside table. Jensen leans over and gets out the lube and condoms, and he can see Jared swallow and look at him with something like awe.  
   
"Jensen?"  
   
Jensen smiles down at Jared, rubbing a thumb along his cheekbone. "Yeah?"  
   
 Jared looks nervous and awkward all of a sudden, but he holds Jensen's gaze. "I... I kinda... " He hesitates, looking for words, but Jensen just kisses him, because he doesn't need to hear it to get it, because Jensen hasn't done this in a while either, and he only does it when he means it, too.  
   
"Yeah," he whispers. "Me too."  
   
And then there's no more room for words because Jensen's rolling the condom on Jared’s cock and slicking it up with lube, and then he braces himself over Jared and sinks down, and there's no room between them for anything but heat. Jensen shudders with the intensity of feeling Jared inside him, the near-pain of friction, and he holds himself absolutely still, waits until his body adjusts. Jared's hands are on his face and on his chest, and he looks like Jensen feels, stretched thin and tense and flushed, panting.  
   
"You fucking giant," Jensen murmurs, and he can feel Jared's laugh against his palms on Jared's torso and against his ass. And suddenly he's hot all over and his skin is too small, and he needs Jared to move, right the fuck now. He grinds down and moves up a little, and Jared gets the message because he moves his hips in one powerful thrust, and ohfuckingyes.  
   
And then they move together, and Jensen leans down to kiss Jared and lets wave after wave of pleasure just flood his body. Jared's hands move from his chest to his back, down his sweat and water slick skin, to his ass, to his hips, clutching, holding onto Jensen, pushing him down and holding him still as Jared fucks up into him and it's hot and intense and so much better than Jensen thought it would be. Jared's nails scrape over his spine and they kiss sloppily, and more often than not miss each other's mouths, and the bedspread is rough under Jensen's palms, and it's fucking perfect.   
   
Jensen moves back to look at Jared's face, flushed and tousled hair, panting, his eyes black, and all heat. Jensen's never seen anyone this beautiful in his life.  
   
Jared gets a hand between their bodies to wrap a huge, warm palm around Jensen's dick, and that's the end of the line for Jensen's brain, because it pretty much fries out on pleasure then. He's hot all over, and every nerve center in his body seems hardwired to his dick. He feels orgasm build from his fingertips down to his toes.  
   
Jared bites his lips and whispers, "Jensen," under his breath, and something inside Jensen goes boom and he comes so hard it almost hurts.  
   
He catches himself with arm braced on the side of Jared's head, doesn't allow himself to sprawl bonelessly, because he needs to see Jared's face when he comes. He kisses Jared's ear, bites his throat, whispers, "I think I kinda love you," and Jared gasps, arches against Jensen and comes with this strangled moan Jensen knows will feature prominently in his wank fantasies for the rest of his natural life.  
   
Jensen moves off Jared, and Jared disposes of the condom, and then he flops back down onto the bed and grins at Jensen, wide, and free and beautiful. "That was... awesome."  
   
Jensen huffs, kind of hovering between lying down and sitting up, because some guys are weird about body contact after sex. But Jared pulls Jensen down against him with one arm, and Jensen goes willingly, throwing a leg over Jared's. "Understatement," he murmurs.  
   
They're quiet for a few moments, and Jensen enjoys it, closes his eyes and lets this sink in, the smell and feel of Jared's skin, the fine hairs on his stomach, the sharp outline of his hipbones under skin.  
   
"So," Jared says, and Jensen can hear the smile in his voice. "You _think_ you _kinda_ love me?"  
   
And Jensen doesn't blush, at all, no sir. "Shut up," he says into the skin of Jared's chest.  
   
Jared rolls so he's facing Jensen. "Make me."  
   
And Jensen grins. "Not a problem," he answers, licking his lips as he reaches for Jared's cock.  
   
*-*  
   
Hot water all around them, and Jared's mouth on his shoulder, Jared's chest a solid wall behind him, and Jensen just leans back and lets Jared's hands drift all over his body.  
   
"I've wanted to do this for fucking ever," Jared murmurs against his shoulders, licking over his skin. "Every time I see your freckles, I wanna bite them, lick them, taste them."  
   
Jensen lets Jared's words flow over him like the hot water of the shower, caught in the heated dizziness of warm water and arousal.  
   
"So Chad's right, then? You hired me because you wanted a hot blond to fuck?" He tries for outraged, but he knows it comes out low and content and drowsy.  
   
"Nah, that was just a fringe benefit," Jared murmurs and starts biting his way up Jensen's neck.  
   
"So why did you hire me, anyway?" Jensen asks, not that he cares too much right now, but he's always wondered in an abstract kind of way. "You didn't even interview me."  
   
"Because I watched you play with the dogs, and they're really good judges of character," Jared answers, every one of his words a puff of hot air against Jensen's ears.  
   
He turns in Jared's arms and pushes him against the tiled wall of the shower. "Anyone ever tell you that you talk way too much?"  
   
Jared grins. "All the fucking time," he murmurs and drops to his knees in one smooth movement and puts his mouth to better use.  
   
*-*  
   
Jensen wakes up when the sun tickles his nose. He feels warm and comfortable and totally fucked out, plus he's hungry as hell. Also, somebody's biting at his toes. "Sadie, cut it out."  
   
Predictably, about two seconds later, her tousled head pops into his line of vision and she whines at him. Jensen closes his eyes and counts to five, and a heavy weight lands near his feet. "Good morning, Harley," he says with a sigh and turns around just as the bed dips again, and Jared crawls on top of him, fully dressed and flushed from his morning run.  
   
"Good morning," he murmurs and kisses Jensen. He tastes of coffee and sunshine and exertion, and Jensen wraps his arms around him and just lets himself sink into the mattress of Jared's bed, huge and warm like Jared himself on top of him.  
   
Jared pulls back and grins at Jensen. "Come on, get up, you sloth."  
   
Jensen groans. "Coffee."  
   
"You say the sweetest things to me, honey," Jared drawls, all exaggerated southern vowels, getting off Jensen and up from the bed.  
   
Jensen flips Jared the bird and turns towards the pillow, pouting at the loss of Jared's warmth against him.  
   
Jared slaps his ass and laughs when Jensen yelps. "Come on down into the kitchen, Rosa's got breakfast all ready," Jared says and turns to walk away, and a moment later Jensen hears him bound down the stairs with the dogs.  
   
Jensen gets up slowly and looks for his boxers. They're still damp, and so are his jeans, so he goes into Jared's closet and steals his Armani briefs and a pair of sweatpants in revenge for the ass-slap before coffee.  
   
He pads down to the kitchen, and Jared's already seated, sweaty and gorgeous like every morning. And it could be every other morning, but Rosa's smiling at him even more affectionately and ruffles his hair and gives him three extra strips of bacon, and Jared's rubbing his leg against Jensen's, and it's not awkward at all.  
   
Jared's smiling at him over bacon and eggs and Jensen smiles back, automatically, because Jared looks giddy and happy and well-fucked, and a part of Jensen feels so smug he's just about to burst. _Take that, random blond dude. This is how Jared's supposed to look morning after, you ball-less loser._  
   
They chat about nothing in particular, the weather, and football and Rosa's upcoming holiday in Mexico, and then Rosa leaves for the farmer's market and Jared all but drags Jensen back upstairs for amazing, mind-blowing sex take five.  
   
Afterwards, Jensen lies sprawled over Jared's chest, panting and sweaty and feeling better than he can remember feeling in years.  
Jared draws lines over the sweat-slick skin of Jensen's back. "Jensen?"  
   
"Hm?" Jensen lifts his head weakly to look at Jared. "What?"  
   
Jared's not looking at Jensen, he's staring at the ceiling. "Did you - did you mean it?"  
   
Jensen blinks. "Did I mean what?"  
   
Jared bites his lips. "What you said last night. About, you know, quitting, and... you know, the rest?"  
   
And Jensen doesn't have to be a mind reader to know exactly what Jared means, and his stomach does a pretty impressive flip-flop when he realizes just how off into the deep end he already is, because he doesn't regret what he said, not even a little bit. "The quitting, not so much. The, you know, rest," Jensen answers, looking up at Jared, pausing until Jared looks at him. "I meant that."  
   
Jared smiles, relieved, and in this moment he looks about eighteen years old and vulnerable. "Good. Because I kinda mean it too."  
   
And Jensen thinks that if he wasn't already kinda really in love with Jared, he would be now.  
   
*-*  
   
Days pass in what Jensen can only call a sex-haze. They leave Jared's room to eat and walk the dogs; otherwise they hardly get out of bed. They watch TV from Jared's bed but they never finish watching anything because they'll start screwing again before the first commercial break. They talk and make out for hours, they jump into the pool and trade lazy blowjobs under the shower, and at one point Jensen goes over to the pool house to rid the fridge of perishables gone bad before they start to stink.  
   
And somewhere Jensen knows there's a snag waiting for them, because getting what you want is never this seamless.  
   
He figures out how right he never wanted to be, when he wakes up about a week after _that_ night and there's Sandra, standing in front of the dresser mirror, back turned to him. She looks unhappy and thunderous, and Jensen doesn't give a shit.  
   
She turns to him when he stirs, and Jensen notices how primly dressed she is, and how debauched he must look, lying in Jared's rumpled bed like some expensive sex kitten.  
   
He looks around for Jared, but he's nowhere to be seen. "Where's Jared?" he asks.  
   
Sandra looks like she'd much rather strangle him dead than answer, but she does, in prim, excruciatingly polite tones. "Mr. Padalecki went to see his agent about some urgent business. He asked me to inform you that he'll be back after lunch."  
   
He rubs a hand over his face to get rid of the fuzziness of his brain. "What happened?"  
   
Sandra clenches her jaw so tightly Jensen's pretty sure she's cracking a molar. "See for yourself." She flings something onto the bed and stalks out of the room on her pretty six-inch heels.  
   
Jensen takes the magazine - tacky tabloid, more likely - she dropped on the bed and immediately spots what she's talking about.  
   
They've made the front page. It's the picture of him and Jared from Taco Bell, and the headline reads 'Jared Padalecki's New Gay Love?'  
   
Oh Jesus.  
   
He leafs through the paper and finally finds the story between a Televangelist ad and a story about the 1000th Elvis sighting in Memphis.  
   
Apparently an 'anonymous tipper' saw him and Jared walk the dogs together, and called the tabloid telling them that he'd seen the young man, apparently one Jenson Achols, a struggling actor from Texas, in Jared Padalecki's company a couple of times now. The paper goes on to speculate that maybe Jared Padalecki has a secret boyfriend and further surmises that Mr. Achols from Texas may start milking the Padalecki influence for some good parts soon.  
   
By the time he's finished the article, Jensen feels nauseous, and he's glad that he hasn't had breakfast yet, because he's not entirely sure he'd be able to hold on to it.  
   
Of course it had to happen sooner or later. Jensen just didn't expect it quite so soon.  
   
This is a part of Jared's life. Tabloids, Paparazzi, being watched and judged constantly, no respect for his privacy or his person. And Jensen realizes with a jolt that all the attention focused on Jared will now also focus on him, on them, on everything they do, every time they leave the house, every time they go to the movies, every time they go to Taco Bell.  
   
And suddenly Jensen's hands go clammy and he just wants to get out of this bed and run and run and run until he's hit the other end of the country.  
   
*-*  
   
Jensen's out by the pool when Jared gets back. Sadie's head is in Jensen's lap, and he busies himself picking twigs out of her fur without even thinking about it, the steady mindless movement calms him somewhat.  
   
He doesn't look up from the water when Jared sits down Indian style next to him.  
   
Sadie gets up and pads over to say hello to Jared, and Jared pats her absently, then turns to Jensen. "So I guess you saw it?"  
   
Jensen nods, still not looking at Jared. "Sandra told me in her charming and subtle fashion."  
   
Jared makes a huffing, angry sound. "I bet. She was so pissed this morning when she called to tell me about the article. I was this close to firing her."  
   
Jensen doesn't say anything to that, because what is there to say, really? He notices that Jared doesn't look too good. He's a bit paler than usual, and there's a frown line over his brows.  
   
"Jensen?" Even Jared's voice is worried, uncertain. "Please say something?"  
   
Jensen sighs. "Like what?"  
   
"Like you're not gonna leave me for this?"  
   
It's the fear in Jared's voice more than the actual words, that makes him finally look at Jared, and before he knows it he's moving and in Jared's space and straddling Jared's lap and kissing that frown away, that ugly worry line that accuses Jensen. Because yes, he's scared, and he's in over his head, but, "No. No way." Jared's the best thing that's happened to him in years, and he's not giving him up. He's not.   
   
The thought alone makes him hold on more tightly to Jared, and Jared clings to him just as hard.  
   
"Okay," he breathes into Jensen's skin. "Okay."  
   
They break apart, and Jensen touches his palms to the sides of Jared's face, smoothes over that frown line with his thumb. "Okay, look. I gotta admit this media thing freaks the hell out of me. I like my privacy inviolate, like I'd figure every single other person on the planet would. But," he says, making sure that Jared's listening, that Jared hears him, because this is important, "but, I'm not running away from you because of it. It's not your fault you're an international superstar," he adds, teasing.   
   
Jared smiles at that last part, and Jensen smiles back.  
   
"Thank you," Jared murmurs, pulling Jensen in for another kiss. "Thank you."  
   
And Jensen knows Jared's thanking him not only for not leaving, but for not blaming Jared for the way his world works.  
   
 "So," Jensen says, trying not to sound as freaked as he is by the situation, "What did you agent have to say?"  
   
Jared shrugs and looks down to the tiled floor with unwarranted fascination. "Nothing much."  
   
Jensen lifts up Jared's chin to make Jared look at him. "Anyone ever tell you that for an actor, you're a really lousy liar?"  
   
Jared sighs. "All right, all right, I'll tell you. He said, more or less, that the next few months the paparazzi are gonna be on me like files on a honeypot, and I - _we_ ," his hands tighten on Jensen, and Jensen allows himself a small thrill about that 'we' "We'd better lie low for a while. But, and that's the good news, I signed the Soderbergh contract."  
   
The last piece of news makes Jensen smile. "That's great, Jared."  
   
Jared nods and pulls Jensen close, hides his face against Jensen's shoulder. "I'm so sorry about all this," he murmurs into Jensen's skin.  
   
Jensen hugs him close, rests his face against Jared's hair. "Not your fault."  
   
They stay like this for a while, until Jensen can feel the unrest in his stomach settle. They can do this. At least he hopes they can.  
   
Sadie's cool nose against Jensen's arm brings him back to what he was doing before Jared came, and he looks up at her, smiling. "Hey, girl. Somebody needs a bath."  
   
Jared smiles and lets go of Jensen, and Jensen gets off Jared's lap, feeling a bit like a girl and not caring much at all. He goes into the kitchen to get some water, and for a moment he stands there, watches Jared pet Sadie, and wonders how he's gonna tell Jared about the decision he's made.  
   
Well, no time like the present.  
   
He gets two bottles of water out of the fridge and can't quite resist grabbing two Coronas as well, and rejoins Jared outside.  
   
Jared's eyes light up on the beer. "Dude, I so need one of those right now."  
   
Jensen hands him one and sits down on one of the lounge chairs, looking down at the cool water bottle in his hands. "Look, I kinda got to tell you something."  
   
 Jared snorts. "Okay, that's vaguely ominous. Let's have it, then."  
   
Jensen looks up at Jared briefly, then back down at his water bottle, and he starts tearing off the label while he speaks. "I've been doing a lot of thinking this morning, and I've decided I can't work for you anymore. It's... it's just too weird. I don't wanna be some sex kitten you're supporting, I gotta get back on my own two feet."  
   
There's a moment of silence, and then Jared answers, voice thoughtful and calm, "Okay, yeah, I get that." There's a pause, and then Jared adds, sounding way less certain, "That doesn't mean you're moving out, does it?"  
   
"Only if you want me to," Jensen answers, voice low, eyes still trained on his hands.  
   
"I don't want you to go," Jared answers immediately, voice firm and decided.  
   
Jensen looks up, finally, smiling. This is going way better than he expected. "Good. 'cause I don't want to go."  
   
Jared smiles back at him and gazes at him, considering, head cocked to the side. "I think it's good you want to work again. And actually, I've got something for you that should make it a bit easier."  
   
He reaches into the back pocket of his low-riding jeans and pulls something out. By the shape of it it's clearly a business card. He holds it out for Jensen to take. "My agent's number. He should be able to help you get back into the acting saddle."  
   
Jensen's smile fades, and he looks at the card in Jared's hand, hovering in mid-air. A simple piece of paper, and yet Jensen feels his insides seize up again. "What do you think you're doing?"  
   
Jared blinks at him, confused. "I'm giving you a phone number."  
   
And Jensen realizes that for Jared, it really is that simple. He's giving Jensen a phone number, a leg up, an opening. But it isn't anywhere near that simple for Jensen. "I can't take this, Jared."  
   
"Why not?" Jared asks, frowning. "It's just a phone number. No strings attached, Jensen. Just a number."  
   
Jensen sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He gestures at the card and answers, "It's not the number, Jared. It's... I... I don't want anything from you. I don't want your influence, or your help or your money, I just want.... I just want you." He looks Jared straight in the eye, sees Jared's gaze soften, sees the smile in his eyes.  
   
"I know that," Jared answers, his voice as soft as the expression in his eyes.  
   
Jensen holds Jared's eyes, and he knows that this is a point he can't relent on, can't ever get weak on, or something between them will be lost forever. "But if I take that card now, you can never be sure. And if your agent gets me a job, I can never be sure that it wasn't just because of you. And I'd never be sure that I've earned anything by myself, and I'm sorry, but that's not a basis for a healthy relationship."  
   
He can see Jared swallow, and slowly, the expression in Jared's eyes changes, and Jensen sighs with relief when Jared nods, slowly, thoughtfully. "Okay," he says, and demonstratively rips up the business card in his hand.  
   
They're not quite there yet, Jensen can tell. He gets up from the chair and kneels in front of Jared, holds out his hand. "No favors, no calls, no accidental meetings with producers, no introductions, no nothing. Promise me."  
   
And Jared looks up, straight into his eyes, and takes his hand. "I promise."  
   
Jensen smiles and curls his fingers around Jared's, and Jared pulls him in and then they're kissing, and Jensen feels the knot of tension in his stomach finally dissolve. He knows he just earned something that's worth as much as Jared's heart: respect.  
   
They break apart, and Jared smiles at him, wickedly. "Fair warning. You got one month to find a new job, then I'm gonna start charging you rent for the pool house."  
   
Jensen laughs, happy and free, and Jared starts kissing his way down Jensen's throat, murmuring against his skin, "Doesn't mean I'm gonna let you move out of my bedroom, though."  
   
And all things said and done, Jensen's got exactly zero problems with that arrangement.  
   
*-*  
   
   
Epilogue  
   
_Nine months later  
   
Superbowl Sunday_  
   
"Move your ass, Padalecki," Chris yells in the general direction of the kitchen.  
   
Jensen rolls his eyes. "Dude, chill out. It's half an hour to the game."  
   
"Yeah, Chris, shut the hell up," Steve says, not taking his eyes off the plasma TV. "Man, that thing is huge."  
   
"You say that every time," Jensen says, smirking.  
   
Chad snorts. "I'd ask whether Jared's got somethin' to compensate for, but I'm actually scared you're gonna answer that, Jensen."  
   
 Jensen smirks. "Let's just say I'm not exactly complainin'."  
   
"About what?" Jared asks, entering the living room balancing a twelve pack, four bottles of Corona and a bowl of popcorn.  
   
Chad makes a disgusted face at Jensen. "Your wife here's grossing me out with details about your love life."  
   
Jared deposits the beer on the couch table and smirks at Jensen. "Honey, don't emotionally scar our guests."  
   
Jensen flips Jared off but raises his arm to make room for Jared to flop down to the couch next to him.  
   
"Could y'all just stop bein' gay at each other for two seconds and give me a beer?" Chris asks in an exaggerated drawl.  
   
Jared gestures at the coffee table. "Help yourself, sweetie," he answers, his voice dripping with sarcastic honey.  
   
Chris flips him off good-naturedly and grabs a beer. "One thing to say about you, Padalecki, you buy decent beer."  
   
"Why thank you, Chris, I can die happy now." Jared's voice still drips totally false sweetness.  
   
"Cut it out, you two." Steve exchanges an annoyed eye-roll with Jensen. Jared and Chris always do this, bicker and snipe to hide that they actually like each other quite a bit. "I wanna hear this."  
   
Steve turns up the volume on the TV and Jensen grins when he sees it's an EW report about Jared's latest movie.  
   
_"'The Sun Also Rises' garnered respectable six Oscar nomination, among them the fourth Best Director nomination for Steven Soderbergh and the first Oscar nod to Jared Padalecki as Best Supporting Actor. Critics showed themselves unsurprised, but media attention was whipped to a frenzy when Jared Padalecki showed up at the premiere with his boyfriend, Independent movie actor Jensen Ackles. On a related note, we learned recently that Padalecki and his live-in boyfriend Ackles have just finished shooting a movie together, and the reports from the set are very promising. Sources say that the two actors have an on-screen chemistry that mirrors their real life relationship, much like famous actor pair Katherine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy."_  
   
"Kinda makes you wonder," Jared muses, looking at the screen. "Which one of us is the chick and which one of us is the gross old guy?"  
   
Jensen rolls his eyes. "I swear, if you weren't so damned good-looking."  
   
"Yeah, I know, I know, classics, watch and learn, appreciate your forefathers, young Padawan, I’ll never learn," Jared answers, grinning. "But I got a feeling you love me anyway."  
   
And there's really only one thing to say to that. "Yeah. I really do."  
   
   
the end


End file.
